


Ya Reap What Ya Sow

by RickylLover



Series: Growin' Affection [1]
Category: The Walking Dead, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Feels, Flirting, M/M, Prequel to Plantin' A Seed, Prison (Walking Dead), Rickyl, Sassy Daryl, Sexual Tension, could be read as stand alone, farmer Rick, prison era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 03:54:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11935794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RickylLover/pseuds/RickylLover
Summary: Daryl and Rick always banter and sass eachother. They have had something going for awhile. Something Daryl doesn't understand, but he sure enjoys it.This could be read as a stand alone, but it it the prequel to Plantin' A Seed, which I wrote a long time ago. LOL.





	Ya Reap What Ya Sow

**Author's Note:**

> OMG I totally intend to update Chemistry Lesson and even have plans for the next chapter of Home Is Where The Heart Is, but this little fic came out of nowhere and I had to write it down. Hope you enjoy.

     Rick's out in his damn garden again. Pullin' up them damn weeds. Again. Crouched down with his ass in the air. In them damn jeans look like they's painted on. Workin' hisself ta death. Same place as he was when Daryl left this mornin'. When he'd said ta Daryl, "See ya later, Darlin'."

     Daryl been called names before. His whole damn life. But, ain't never nothin' like _Darlin_ '. 'Til Rick. An' him an' Rick got this thing goin', this thing he ain't even understand. Where Rick calls him Darlin' every time he leaves on a run. Every time.

     And Daryl's insides get all damn twisted up. Can't hardly think of nothin' else, but Rick the whole damn time he's out. Brings him back somethin' special. For just the two of them to share. Chocolate. Booze. Cigarettes. An', if he don't know better, which he don't, he'd think it were flirtin' or some shit.

     Daryl got some good shit today. Found a vending machine no one'd got to yet. And whiskey. Damn near half a bottle of Old Grandad. Shit's worse'n drinkin' fuel, like that time Merle first taught Daryl to siphon gas an' he almost threw up. But, shared with Rick it'll be good. Gettin' to fit his mouth over the bottle where Rick's will have been. Ain't like it's kissin' or nothin' so's ain't nothin' wrong if he enjoys it.

     Daryl parked his bike and cut across the grass to the garden. To Rick. Bag slung over his shoulder with his bow. And of course Rick were still pullin' them damn weeds with his damn ass in the air. Pullin' the damndest feelings outta Daryl, too.

     There ain't much in this world to look forward to. Fuck if Daryl ain't got more now than he ever had in his whole damn life, though. Got a good roof over his head. A hot meal mosta the time. An' he ain't always gotta hunt an' cook it hisself neither. On account of others doin' work, too. He got friends. Family, even. Most of all he got Rick.

     Rick in them damn jeans. With his damn ass in the air. Bobbin' around as he hobbled over them rows of carrots comin' up. They ain't the only thing comin' up. What with the way Rick were puttin' on a damn show. Like he wanted Daryl to see it.

     Rick had to know he were comin'. Bike ain't exactly quiet. Hell, them damn new people come runnin' to the gate from every corner of the prison lookin' for a handout. An' that one lady always askin' if he seen her little girl. Fuck, he ain't never had no luck findin' little girls. But, he lets her show him the damn picture every fuckin' time. An' he looks for her. Every fuckin' time.

     "Hi, Honey, I'm home," Daryl said like always. Sassin'. Flirtin'? He don't fuckin' know.

     "You're late," Rick stood and stretched his back. Makin' his shirt ride up a little. Mesmerizing Daryl with the sliver of skin he exposed. It looked sweaty and chafed. And Daryl couldn't help wondering how it would feel under his hands. "I had dinner waiting," Rick flashed him an exaggerated pout. Teasing.

     And it was only then Daryl saw it. Sittin' in the grass by the corner of the garden. The rolled up blanket and thermos. Probably the potato soup Carol were makin' this mornin'. He'd been too focused on Rick's ass to notice it before.

     "Got held up at work," Daryl grinned. Hoisting the bag off his shoulder and jiggling it at Rick. "Ain't exactly candy 'n flowers, but maybe this'll make up fer me makin' ya worry yer pretty little head 'bout me." Jesus, did he really say that outloud? Call Rick pretty? Fuck, he was though.

     "Flattery will get you everywhere," Rick threw off his gloves and fought Daryl for the bag with sweaty hands.

     In the tussle they ended up chest to chest. Face to face together when Daryl yanked his haul away, hard. That weren't the only thing hard. The bulge in Rick's jeans were pressin' into Daryl's dick like dueling swords. Jesus, that ain't never happened before.

     Daryl panted, suckin' in Rick's hot breath in his face. Unable to speak. Or move. The slightest bit of friction down below woulda had him comin' in his pants like a fuckin' teenager.

     Rick broke the silence. His voice barely a whisper ghosting over Daryl's lips. "You think I'm pretty?" And he weren't teasin' or accusin' or nothin' like that. Seemed like he really wanted to know.

     Daryl huffed. Unable to get his mouth to work. But, his eyes blinked out, _yes. Fuck yes_. And Rick seemed to understand every word he did not say. Nuzzling into Daryl until his cheek rubbed against Daryl's chin scruff and his lips were in his ear. "You ain't so bad yourself," Rick admitted before pulling back with a start and smoothing out his rumpled shirt.

     Daryl stood as stiff as his dick. Willin' the bulge to go down. If this weren't what he thought it was, hoped it was, he don't want to make a damn fool of himself. And he don't want to lose Rick. Or this thing, whatever the fuck it was, they got goin' on.

     Rick waved and Daryl turned to see one of the new guys walking the fence. And he hoped that was the only reason Rick pulled away. Rick cocked his head at dinner, "Soup's gettin' cold." Even though it were in a thermos. Bakin' in the damn sun. "And you probably ain't hardly stopped to eat the whole time you were out, so..."

     The new guy jabbed at a walker like he ain't never skewered nothin' in his whole life, but a damn hotdog to cook over the fire. Just seemed to make the thing mad. Lunging for him until the fence bulged. Grabbin' onto his shirt.

     "Damn fool," Daryl dropped his bag and grabbed his bow. Fired off a shot before the idiot were in any real danger. And the walker released him, falling on his ass in a heap on the ground as Daryl ran over.

     "Best keep away from the fence 'f ya ain't prepared ta handle the consequences," Daryl helped the guy up. Brushed him off and shooed him away. "Fucker cost me an arrow," he grumbled. And maybe his chance with Rick. Because, when he turned back to the garden he was gone. Along with the bag. And dinner. Fuck.

     "You comin'?" Rick's voice split Daryl's ears. Callin' him from over by the guard tower.

     Jesus, he were comin', alright. In his damn pants if Rick don't stop it. That man can't walk silent for shit, but he were gettin' the jump on Daryl all over the place. Affectin' his brain. Probably on account of Rick made his blood rush elsewhere.

     Daryl slung his bow back over his shoulder. Chased after Rick like a lost puppy. He'd followed Merle like his damn shadow 'cuz they's kin. But, he followed Rick outta trust. And that crazyass connection they got. He'd known his place with Merle, walked a step behind. But, with Rick they's always shoulder to shoulder. Equals. And Rick waited for Daryl to get right up to him before shoving the bag at him and climbing the ladder. With the thermos wrapped in the blanket and tied over his shoulder. And his ass bobbin' around in Daryl's face as he started climbin'.

     "Hurry up," Daryl swatted his ass with the excuse of rushing him. But, really he just wanted to touch it. "Got a lotta good shit ta show ya."

     Daryl was slow going up the ladder. Enjoying the view. So Rick already had the blanket spread out by the time he pulled himself up and secured the door. He were sittin' Indian style pourin' potato soup into the thermos cup. "Here," Rick passed it to Daryl. "You must be starvin' the way ya forget ta take care of yourself."

     Sure 'nough he was. "Yer such a nag," Daryl collapsed next to Rick. Bumping shoulders in thanks before taking the soup. "Always harpin' on me," he winked. But, truth be told, he liked bein' looked after. Cared for. Especially by Rick.

     "Well," Rick accepted the cup of soup back. Took a sip. "I've been home all day worryin' about ya and mindin' the kids, least ya could do is make it home on time," he razzed him.  Passed the cup back. Got all serious and went about checkin' him for brusises and scrapes and shit. _Bites_. But, he don't let on to that last part.

     Rick's hands were gentle on Daryl. So warm they's burnin' into him. Sliding over his neck. His arms. Making his hair stand on end. Daryl ain't never known touch could be like that. _Gentle_. And he wanted more of it.

     "I'm really glad you're okay," Rick finally said once he was satisfied there was nothing to worry about. Squeezing his shoulder before letting go.

     Daryl nodded. "I ain't never gonna do nothin' ta risk not gettin' back here," he croaked. "Back ta you," he added. Because, they were words Rick deserved to hear.

     Rick's smile was pink and wide. And fucking beautiful. Making Daryl wanna suck the spit right out of his mouth. But, he should probably stick to the whiskey. He rifled the bag, "Wanna see what I got fer us?" It felt good to say _us_.

     Daryl pulled out a handful of chocolate bars. Tossed them in Rick's lap. "Sweets fer m' sweet," he sassed. Feelin' bold even without the drink.

     Rick tore open a Hershey bar. Shoved the first piece in Daryl's mouth. All hot and melted. And he let Daryl lick the mess off his fingers. Fucking let him. Actually pushed his fingers past Daryl's lips. Encouraging him?

     "Mmmmm," Rick hummed, like he were the one eating chocolate even though he ain't had none yet. "What else?" He finally pulled back. Sucking the rest of the chocolate mess, and Daryl's spit, off his hand before eating his own piece of the Hershey bar.

     Daryl's brain had short circuited and he was beyond speech. He'd had Rick's fingers in his mouth. Swirled his tongue over the tips. And he could not process it. But, he pulled himself together and dug out bag after tiny bag of chips, cookies and trail mix he'd gotten from the vending machine. He hoped Rick went for the Cheetos. He'd like to see Rick lick the cheese dust off'n his fingers. Or maybe he'd let Daryl do it. So's they could share...

     Before he came in his pants again he pulled out the whiskey. Unscrewed the cap and passed it to Rick. "This shit ain't top shelf fer sure, but it'll put some hair on yer chest." He'd sure like to see Rick's chest.

     Rick shot him another beautiful smile. "I'm warnin' ya, if you're tryin' ta get me drunk and take advantage of me," he chugged and choked. "I'm a lightweight," he pouted as he passed the bottle to Daryl.

     "I've seen how ya hold yer liquor, Grimes," Daryl razzed him. Taking the the bottle. He fit his lips where Rick's had been. Wondering what it would be like to kiss that pout off'n his face. To taste the whiskey and chocolate on his lips. He knocked his head back and sucked the bottle, wishing it was Rick in his mouth.

     Rick rifled the pile of loot and ripped open a bag of Fritos. "You sure know how to spoil a guy."

     Daryl chugged more whiskey. Wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Whatever this was between them, ain't no way this could be a date. Could it? Ain't no way a good man like Rick Grimes could ever want no damn Dixon. Least of all because he were a damn _man_. But, it were the best date Daryl ain't never been on. Laughin' and drinkin' and talkin' shit with Rick. His best friend. His brother. His...?? The love of his damn life. But, Daryl knew he shouldn't want things he can't have.

     But, sometimes, like when they's sharin' a laugh alone together, a look, sassin' each other, Daryl thinks that maybe, just maybe Rick wants it, too. Maybe, just maybe Rick is flirting, too. Bobbin' his ass around in that damn garden. In them damn jeans. Like he means it. Like he's plantin' seeds. An' one of these days he gonna reap what he sows. And Daryl's gonna plant some seed in him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think. And...I have every intention of trying to get an update for Chemistry Lesson soon...


End file.
